


"Something happened at Annalise’s..."

by jooliewrites



Series: Season 3 Coliver Codas [5]
Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Coda, Episode Related, Episode: s03e05 It's All About Frank, M/M, Phone Calls & Telephones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-28
Updated: 2016-10-28
Packaged: 2018-08-27 10:51:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8398780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jooliewrites/pseuds/jooliewrites
Summary: "Wait! Laurel—What? What happened!?” Michaela yelled in his ear.Oliver rubbed a hand over his eyes. How had the night come to this? “Something—I don’t know but something happened at Annalise’s. The house is…it’s...” Gone +A 3x05 Coliver Coda





	

**Author's Note:**

> [originally posted](https://ramblesandreblogs.tumblr.com/post/152097307603/a-colver-3x05-fast-coda-wait-laurelwhat-what)
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> ps. i'm posting this an hour and a half before the next ep so this counts.

“Wait! Laurel—What? What happened!?” Michaela yelled in his ear.

Oliver rubbed a hand over his eyes. How had the night come to this? “Something—I don’t know but something happened at Annalise’s. The house is…it’s...” _Gone._

He’d seen the flames from blocks away, the smoke billowing up and away in dark and twisted curls. He’d—wait…had he driven in tonight or walked? Where had he left his car?

“I got there,” he continued telling Michaela into the phone. “And the place is a zoo. Cops. Firemen. Lights blazing.”

“Where was Laurel?” Michaela demanded. Over the line, Oliver heard her whispering, soft and fast, to her mother, giving her the quick and dirty version.

“Inside, I think.” He couldn’t remember. It’d only been an hour ago, maybe more, probably more, but still it’d hadn’t been that long and yet he couldn’t get the details right. Couldn’t remember what had come first. “People were gathered outside. Talking about a body. They’d found her alive.”

That had been her, right? The crowd had been talking about Laurel when he’d first gotten there, how a body had already been found. But…but wait. That had been before the phone…and he’d just finished with the phone they found they rushed out with—

“But they got her?” Through the phone, Oliver heard a door slam and Michaela’s feet pounding down stairs. “And she’s okay?”

“Yeah.” Oliver’s breath was coming in shallow now, shallow and fast. They’d found Laurel after the phone. That was right. After. “I mean, they’re worried.” He tried to remember all Meggy had said, tried to think. “Smoke inhalation and…and…” Shit. He pinched the bridge of his nose. What more had there been? “I can’t remember.” The word came out ragged and Oliver bit his lip. But he could remember. There was more. He was remembering more.

“It’s okay, Oliver,” Michaela said into the phone, her voice cool, trying to be a balm on his fraying nerves. Finding her car, she dug her keys out and unlocked it. “It’ll be okay. You’re at the hospital?”

He nodded until he remembered that she couldn’t see him. “Yeah. Bonnie’s here too.” He swallowed. “I think Annalise is in jail.”

“What?” He heard her curse as he fumbled and dropped her keys, trying to get them in the ignition.

Oliver shook his head. “I can’t—” He pulled in a ragged breath, nearly a sob. “He didn’t tell you where he was going?” he whispered, terrified of the answer. Where was Connor? Why hadn’t he taken his phone? He always had his phone. It went everywhere with him, like another limb.

And there had been another body, another person in that house. That’s what the crowd had been talking about when he’d run up. Someone else was in there, someone—

“I’m sure he’s fine, Oliver,” Michaela said in that overly soothing voice of hers Oliver was coming to hate. “I’m sure he’s just…out.”

 _Oh yeah. Out. How did I not think of that?_ He held back the smart retort but it didn’t help him, didn’t calm him.

“Michaela—” Oliver’s voice broke on her name and he took a breath before he said the worst, “I think there was someone else in—”

But there were no words after that.

Because Oliver turned and saw it. The news. Annalise’s house aflame. The scroll underneath.

**UNIDENTIFIED MALE DEAD IN HOUSE FIRE.**

Oliver dropped the phone. It bounced once off the tile floor, landing face up. Dimly, he heard Michaela’s tiny voice through the speaker, screaming at him, “What’s wrong? What happened? Oliver! OLIVER!”

But he couldn’t move, couldn’t answer. He just stood there, staring at the words, at the horror of it.

**UNIDENTIFIED MALE DEAD IN HOUSE FIRE.**

There had been another body, another person, maybe even—NO.

With a shaking hand, Oliver bent to pick up the phone. “Mic—”

His voice broke on a sob and, in her car across town, Michaela stilled. “Oliver?” There wasn’t an answer, only his ragged breathing in her ear. “Oliver? What’s wrong?”

“They—they found a body.” Oliver bit his fist. “Some—someone’s dead.”

A chill went down Michaela’s spine. “Who?” When he didn’t answer right away, Michaela got mean, “Who? Oliver!?!”

“I don’t—“Unidentified male dead in house fire,”” he quoted. “That’s all it says. That’s all the news says. I can’t—Mic, I can’t—”

In the hospital waiting room, Oliver thought of Connor. Connor’s smile and laugh and taste. The way Connor loved him, so completely, without hesitation or reserve. They way he loved Connor right back, with everything. All that he was, all that he would be.

In her car, Michaela thought of Asher. Asher’s grin and ridiculous dancing and way he held her, like she was someone precious, like she was someone he lo—

“Oliver, it’s gonna be okay,” she said, her voice overly bright to mask the terror. “I’m gonna come and it’s gonna be okay. They’ll—he’ll be okay.”

“But Mic—”

“I said it’s gonna be okay and it is!” she snapped. She didn’t have time for this. “I’ll be there. Just—just wait. I’ll be there.”

With a finger that shook, she ended the phone call and tried to click open the phone. When the passcode didn’t work she remembered. It was Connor’s phone.

“Fuck!” Slamming a hand against her steering wheel, she swiped over to make an emergency call and closed her eyes, trying to remember the number. 8-6-1? No. 8-6-4. Yeah. It was a four. She was nearly positive.

Dialing the number, she breathed a broken sigh of relief when it came up as a known contact. Under any other circumstances, she’d laugh at the name Connor’d put Asher under but right now she was too busy praying.

“Pick up. Please. Please, Ash. Please, pick up. Pick up. Pick up. Pick up.”

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://ramblesandreblogs.tumblr.com)


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